


at moonrise.

by blushzzt



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I'm actually kinda proud of this one, M/M, Other, Some angst, guard!yanjun, prince!zhangjing, royal!AU, royalty!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 09:23:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushzzt/pseuds/blushzzt
Summary: Yanjun is a guard who's yours to serve and you're a royal who's his to protect, even thought you'll be gone.





	at moonrise.

You know what not being the eldest means. Zhangjing gets to reign over the country, he gets to stay home. And you, they’ll marry you off to some neighboring kingdom, one which is much more powerful than yours, and you’ll never see the palace again.

It’s what the Queen wants, you don’t have a say in this. Maybe it’s because of the King’s death, now that he’s not here to protect you she can finally get rid of you,  _the bastard._

Life at the palace is hectic and stressful, especially when everybody’s preparing your marriage with Prince Justin. This union is supposed to strengthen your armies and to increase your supplies, it’s supposed to make the kingdom happier.

You’re not happy. You want to be selfish and scream and tell everybody everything’s wrong. But you can’t, an aristocrat must never raise their voice, an aristocrat must be always proper and think about the kingdom. It’s always them before you.

Thus you let yourself be carried away up and down in the palace, trying wedding vestments and ornaments, learning about proper etiquette and reciting wedding vows.

 

* * *

 

Zhangjing visits you in the middle of dancing classes. He brings the new beverage the cooks prepared and gives it to you saying it’s to slim down. You scoff, but gulp it down nonetheless.

“Where’s the teacher?” he asks as loud and cheery as ever.

“You think the Queen would hire a teacher?  _For me?_ ” you turn around, dress whirling around the hems, “We both know that’s not likely.”

Zhangjing is quiet. He knows what the Queen thinks of you. She finds distasteful everything you do, from the way you talk, the way you walk to the way you act. It’s unfair, it’s not your fault what the King did and now, now you have to pay for his wrongdoings. It’s just not right.

“Well then, you’re very lucky my guard is with me.”

“He’s always with you.”

“But today he’s going to stay with you.”

Yanjun hurries to Zhangjing’s side. “Your Highness, I do not know how to dance,” he whispers into his ear.

Zhangjing just smiles and pats him on the back. He’s sure Yanjun will do a good job at helping you and maybe he’ll learn something too. He leaves you two alone under the chandeliers, under the doubt of maybe’s.

 

* * *

 

You’ve seen Yanjun, Prince Zhangjing’s guard, many times at the palace. He always looks stern and serious, his armor making his piercing eyes shine more, his sword marking the lines between fierce and gentle.

It’s peculiar how his hands, rough on battles and edges, hold your waist as if fearing he’d break you. He’s known for being a beast, not for feather touches.

“Loosen up, you’re too stiff.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

You don’t like how he calls you. Just because he’s a guard doesn’t mean he has to treat you like that, it makes you feel uneasy. But even when you tell him to not call you Your Highness he says it’s his duty, it’s what makes him a guard.

Yanjun guides you along the violins. He’s a fast learner, memorizing the steps and the counts in one go. The starry sky greets you both and he keeps leading you in every corner and tile of the ballroom, teaching you.

The waltz is getting softer in your ears and Yanjun’s steps are each time sloppier. You decide to call it a day and send him away but he doesn’t move.

“I am not to leave your side, not until the Crown Prince calls for me,” he says.

You’ve never met such a guard like him. Immovable, fixed, stubborn. So you spend the rest of the night talking to him and trying to make some sort of emotion show on his face. You wonder if his smile is as nice as he is, if his laughter would spark you like some fireworks.

“You know Zhangjing thinks of you as a friend, right?” you ask him with your hands fiddling your dress, “You’re a brother to him.”

“He’s the Crown Prince,” his eyes don’t meet yours, they look in front of him, always in front of him, “I am his royal guard, Your Highness.”

Yanjun doesn’t laugh nor smile while talking to you. You’re not sure if he doesn’t like talking to you or if he just resents you like the Queen does, but what you’re sure of is that his voice is so soft, it lulls you to sleep. Before you know it, a pair of familiar hands are carrying you to bed.

 

* * *

 

You’re surprised to find Yanjun the next day in the ballroom waiting for you. He already has the waltz prepared, ready to teach you.

“I though I’d be alone today,” you come closer to him and hand him your hand.

He takes it and kisses it. “Do you not need me today, Your Highness?”

“Oh, no, no, I need you,” you answer hurriedly, “I really do.”

You swear you saw a little smirk.

The classes progress each time a little faster, your feet know the music now, they keep dancing and you keep swaying. Yanjun has also changed, he gazes at your eyes whenever you two talk, he’s not afraid to pull you a little closer now and his dancing isn’t as stiff and tense as before.

You fear what will happen after this training is done, if anything between you and Yanjun will change or if he’ll keep being Zhangjing’s guard. You don’t want this, whatever it is, to come to an end. It’s the only source of happiness you’ve found these days, between the frantic preparations and rehearsals.

Yanjun is the only person who doesn’t hurry you, who doesn’t scold you when you can’t do something. He takes your hand and promises he’ll teach you better, that you’ll become better at what you’re missing.

The nights of the wind engulfing you and him are getting shorter and you don’t like that.

 

* * *

 

Yanjun knows that he shouldn’t be falling for you. He’s the Crown Prince’s guard, not yours. But he can’t help it when his eyes wander to you. Dancing with the breeze in the gardens, humming some old song, reading with your glasses that are a little too big on you.

He’s not supposed to feel this. You can’t be in his mind when all that should be in his mind is the Crown Prince’s safety. Regardless, you’re from noble blood and he’s a mere guard. What good will he bring you?

You deserve someone better, better than him.

 

* * *

 

It’s past midnight when your shouts startle Yanjun.

He runs at your room as fast as he can and opens the door swiftly. Instead of an intruder, a thief or something, he doesn’t expect to see you on your bed, hands in your hair and panting.

You’re crying. Your hands are tangling and untangling your locks. Your body is shaking and you can’t stop screaming.

Yanjun doesn’t know what to do. He’s been trained to fight, to use the sword and the bow, not to comfort delicate flowers like you. All he can do is speak less and act more, but he doesn’t dare to do anything else.

He approaches you and places your head on his chest. You immediately turn into his touch and stop shouting. Yanjun rocks you back and forth, hands caressing your back and head. You’re still having difficulties to breathe and he reminds you over and over to inhale and exhale.

“It’s okay, Your Highness, just breathe,” he whispers.

Yanjun wants to know what kind of nightmare you’re having which is causing you to be like this, he only wishes for you to be okay. He wants to know how many nights you’ve gone like this, mad cries and no one who comes to help you. He wants to know why you don’t have a guard who would rush over and save you from your demons,  _someone like him_.

“Don’t go,” is all you manage to say.

He knows he won’t even if you hadn’t asked.

 

* * *

 

Morning wakes him up and he realizes he has spent an entire night with you in his arms. He knows you won’t remember him, seeing how unstable you were. It’s for the best, you shouldn’t know what he has done.

Yanjun leaves your room while you’re sleeping.

 

* * *

 

You had a strange dream yesterday. The palace was on fire and you couldn’t move. It felt so real, the heat, the red hues, you were terrified. At some point you started to shout for help, for someone to save you but the servants went and gone as if you weren’t there.

You can still remember everything so vividly, your lungs still burn.

But it’s no use to fret over nightmares, today you’ve got more important things to do. Soon it will be the wedding between you and Prince Justin, soon you’ll have to depart from your sweet kingdom. Your feet seem heavier than usual as you drag yourself to the morning lessons and practices.

The older servants are everything but kind to you. You’ve noticed they’ve grown tired of pretending being nice to you, you’ll be gone soon after all, why should they? They throw you glances everywhere you go and make sure you don’t sneak out as you used to do.

This one in particular is driving you mad. He inspects everything you do, eyes as sharp as an eagle. He doesn’t let you off not even once, indicating whatever error you’ve made. You hate him, you understand it’s just him trying to win the Queen’s favor but you’ve had more than enough of him and his remarks.

This time he asks you to dance for him. Yanjun stands beside you and as he always does, when the music starts he guides you. But it’s over too soon as you step Yanjun’s shoes and the violins stop. He asks if you’re okay—when you’re the one who stepped on him—and you can only nod and hope the servant hasn’t noticed.

But his snickering tells you otherwise. He approaches to you and pushes his shoulders back, as if he was trying to intimidate you.

“Is that what you’ve been practicing these days? No wonder the Queen wants you away,” he laughs making your blood boil, “and with a guard? Shameful.”

He keeps saying you’re not any good, you can’t be on the throne, you’re just a bastard, you, you, you. He hurts and hurts and you can only take and take. You can’t say anything to him, you’re not allowed to raise your voice. That’s how it has always been like.

But Yanjun pushes you behind him, behind his larger build, and signals you to go outside.

“Don’t, please, don’t,” you plead.

He squeezes your hand. “It will be okay,” he whispers as he takes you outside the ballroom.

You never heard about what happened inside, even if you stayed ear-to-the-door you couldn’t hear anything. When they got out, Yanjun headed straight to Zhangjing’s bedroom ignoring your questions.

You never saw him again after that.

 

* * *

 

Yanjun makes sure that whatever paths he takes you won’t meet him. He has never felt so scared that someone might see him, even if it’s for a mere second. He has made a promise to that treacherous servant, he won’t hinder you anymore and you won’t see Yanjun again.

But it’s hard, especially when he sees you everywhere he goes. Your hair flying in the wind, your hands picking flowers, your footsteps pacing in the ballroom. Always you, somewhere in his mind, somewhere in his eyes.

It throws him off when he goes to his chambers and finds you seated on his bed. Royalty are forbidden to enter the guards’ rooms, you’re not supposed to be here. It must be another trick, he sighs. You’d never see him again, not after what he did to you.

“Don’t avoid me,” you suddenly say, startling him.

“I’m not avoiding you, Your Highness,” he suspires, he’s missed calling you that, “I’m protecting you.”

“Protecting me? You’re hurting me.”

“It’s for the best.”

You stand up and come closer to him, to the point he can feel your breath. “What did he tell you to make you do this to me?”

Yanjun doesn’t answer. He knows if he did, that would mean treason against the royal family and you’d be the most affected out of it. But it’s you, you make him spin, fall, live, die. He can’t lie to you, especially not when you’re looking at him like that.

“He asked me if I’m in love with you.” You don’t look taken aback when he says that, you just get closer to him.

“Well, are you?” you ask, eyes expectant.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he answers, “I’m in love with you.”

Yanjun expects you to run away, to get away from him but you don’t. You smile and stand on your tiptoes before leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. It leaves him bewildered, aren’t you going to hit him and scream at him for being a fool?

“I’m in love with you too.”

He doesn’t even think twice before pressing his lips to yours. His hands bring you closer to him as you smile in the kiss. He kisses you gently and fervently, losing track of time and forgetting boundaries and rules. You’re making him lose his mind.

“I’m getting married, Yanjun,” you whisper when his lips leave yours.

He leans down, foreheads touching. “I know.”

And as the moonlight seeps through crevices and the sun falls, Yanjun holds you, close to his chest, close to his heart.

He won’t let you go again.

 

* * *

 

The ground crunches and crisps under you. The gardens are much more beautiful at night, with the flowers swinging with the zephyrs and nothing but peacefulness surrounding you.

It’s the time you most love meeting with Yanjun. He’s always there before you watering the plants. There are no harsh lights at the gardens unlike at the ballroom, everything makes him look unreal and blurred, you wonder if Yanjun’s a painting.

“Was today difficult?”

“Not as hard as it must have been on you.”

Yanjun has dropped calling you ‘Your Highness’ every time you meet at night. He says he’ll think of something better to call you, something which makes you know you’re his to protect and he’s yours to serve. You tell him that no matter what, you’ll always be his and his only.

You sit on a bench and signal him to join you. Yanjun sits next to you and interlocks his fingers with yours.

“Do you know which star are you?” you ask. He answers by shaking his head.

You explain to Yanjun the stars, the constellations and the positions, what are stars and where are they. He nods as you speak, his eyes glimmer with understanding.

“Which star are you?”

“You can’t see mine yet.”

He smiles. “I’m sure it’s the brightest one.”

When he speaks in rosy and lilac tones, it hurts you. Because this is not what the Queen wants, this is not what will bring prosperity to the kingdom, this is bound to tear you apart and Yanjun will be watching as you fall.

This is not right, but you can’t stop.

“Do you… do you ever think about what will happen?” you mutter as the wind takes your voice away, “After I get married?”

“No, don’t say that,” he says softly, caressing your face, “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Yanjun, you won’t see me ever again, I’ll be gone to another palace and you’ll stay here.”

“I will follow you.”

“They will kill you.”

“I will kill them first.”

“What about Zhangjing?”

Yanjun doesn’t answer this time. His loyalty to Zhangjing is too big, he’s not willing to leave him for you, you know that much. He’s his royal guard, he serves a purpose and a role to Zhangjing but to you, to you he doesn’t do anything.

“We’ll be together, even if death keeps me from it,” his hands travel to your back and he puts his chin on your shoulder, “I promise.”

You let yourself believe him. This isn’t a fairy tale but for tonight, you pray it is. You pray that Yanjun will come rescue you and take you away, somewhere far away from the palace and far away from the burdens.

You keep that in your heart and soul, with the moon being the witness of an unabating bond.

 

* * *

 

The palace is sent to an uproar when they receive a letter from Prince Justin calling off the marriage. Shouts can be heard from anywhere, the maidens are angry that their wedding ornaments are useless now and the servants are complaining about the waste of time they’ve spent.

You can’t be any happier.

 

* * *

 

Yanjun comes running to your room as soon as he hears the news. Before you can say anything, he holds you and twirls you around. You’re laughing and he’s so, so, happy, he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Yanjun, stop it!” you keep giggling as he leaves kisses everywhere, on your face, on your neck.

“You’ll stay, you’ll stay,” he muses, “you won’t leave me.”

Yanjun swears he’s dreaming. The countless nights of worrying are coming to an end and he can be there to guard you, from devious servants and horrifying nightmares. He can be there to keep you safe and support you. Because he’s yours and you’re his.

He places you on the bed and hugs you tightly as you hide your face in his chest.

“Thank you, Yanjun, for everything,” you beam at him.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he takes your hand and holds it, “you saved me.”

He hopes many more times like this will come, that you will smile and bloom just like the gardens, that you’ll teach him more of the stars and their constellations, that he’ll get to dance with you in the ballroom and its corners.

“Will you stay by my side?” you ask.

He kisses your forehead.

“ _Always_.”

**Author's Note:**

> this came from a drabble that was requested from an anon in tumblr. i liked it a lot so i ended up doing a longer version!


End file.
